And the Lord Taketh Away Part II
by muchbeddled
Summary: 1215-Robin confronts King John to sign Magna Carta, and returns home to find all he loved lost. Seeking revenge, he is forced to become an outlaw again.
1. Chapter 1

June 1215, Locksley

In the middle of a warm summer night, Marian awoke in her bed and reached for her husband. Robin was not there. But of course...she had forgotten he wasn't at home. Remembering, she sighed longingly into the darkness.

Robin was south, somewhere near London, trying to fulfill his dream of creating a better England.

Unable to withstand King John's ever increasing atrocities, Robin was standing up for justice, leading many of the nation's nobles to challenge their king. They were readying themselves for civil war, for, as much as Robin hated that possibility, he had convinced the other lords the changes he proposed were truly worth fighting for.

Lying comfortably in their bed, Marian let her mind recall what Robin and the others were challenging. First, there were the results of John's Angevin losses on the continent. Although he had hired a large army of mercenaries, King John demanded Robin and other lords fight his battles on foreign soil, or else pay scrutage, great sums of money to avoid military service. In addition, the losses John suffered...the vast amounts of land now falling to Philip Augustus of France, greatly decreased his revenues. The English king commanded his English lords to make up the difference, bleeding his people dry with more and more outrageous taxes.

Other dastardly acts Robin opposed included John's treatment of his peers' families. Should a lord of the realm die and leave an underaged heir, the king would seize the lord's lands and holdings for himself, only to sell them to the highest bidder. John also suffered no qualms about selling the deceased lord's wife and daughters in marriage to whomever would pay the highest price.

Should a Jew die, everything he had saved went to the king, leaving his heirs destitute. And since it was so advantageous to John for a Jew to die, untold numbers died mysteriously before their time.

King John seemed to take pleasure arrestiing men, women, and children and brutally punishing them for no apparent cause, whenever the whim struck him. His favorite punishment was starvation, but he also enjoyed burning out people's eyes and even roasting them on spits.

He took the unwilling wives and daughters of his lords to his bed, boasting to their husbands and fathers of his prowess with them the following moring. Loving to hunt, as long it wasn't too difficult, he delighted in the forestry laws which ensured there would be deer aplenty, ruthlessly employing capital punishment if anyone was caught poaching. Furthermore, his vile behavior and open mockery of the Church had caused Pope Innocent III to excommunicate him, and no one in England had been allowed to worship in church for three long years.

Marian was in complete agreement with her beloved husband that England needed change. Robin had drawn up a document with twelve clauses protesting John's illegal actions, and had rallied support from other lords. Together, they were developing a longer document and were planning to force the king to agree to their demands, or withdraw their support from him and launch the nation into civil war.

However, even though Marian supported her husband's cause, it didn't stop her from missing him dreadfully.

The years had been kind to Marian. Robin's constant enduring love had made her blossom like a rose, and she was still breathtakingly beautiful. Unable to sleep this night, she rose from her bed and stood at the window, looking out into the warm night.

"Bless you, my darling," she whispered into the night, smiling at her own sentimentality, yet hoping all the same the breeze would somehow carry her love to her husband. "Come home to me soon."

Their sons were dead...tiny Richard just a few short hours after his birth...darling Edward, who so resembled his father, was taken cruelly by the pox when he was only four. Their baby girls were nearly grown. Ellen, sweet and patient, so like Robin's mother, had been busy sewing her wedding gown for her upcomming nuptials with the young Earl of Hereford. Grace, high spirited but kind, forever getting into scrapes, had recently surprised her mother by declaring she wanted to become a nun.

Grace...a nun? Marian didn't know what to think of that! She needed Robin to come home to put it in perspective for her.

In the distance, a dog barked out a warning, then fell instantly silent. "Goodnight, my love," Marian whispered to Robin, then made her way back to bed.

But still she could not sleep. Something felt wrong. Was Robin in danger? She prayed for his safety.

Still feeling a sense of foreboding, Marian climbed from her bed and made her way down the stairs of her home.

All was still. Marian waited in silence, but when nothing happened, she dismissed her feelings and turned to climb the steps back to her room.

Without warning, she felt a pair of large hands grab her, pushing and shoving her up the stairs. She tried screaming, but a hand covered her mouth. In desperation, she struggled, kicking and elbowing and hitting, but her abuser was far too strong. He seemed to know his way through her home.

With a mighty push, he threw Marian face down on the floor of her bedchamber and bolted the door behind him. She could hear his heavy breathing, and she tried to rise and fling herself at him, but he seized her again and tied her wrists to the bedposts.

Her hair had fallen in her eyes, hiding him from her sight, but she knew him the moment she heard his low, menacing voice.

"Thought you'd killed me, you lying whore."

The voice from her worst nightmare seemed to slap her in the face, shocking her to silence. The voice of Sir Guy of Gisbourne, the voice she never expected to hear again, assaulted her in her own room.

"Just like you, I am harder to kill than you could imagine. But now, wth Locksley away, you will not survive. You, Liar, will die tonight."


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

It was her fault...hers and Locksley's. With forced breaths, Guy of Gisbourne stared at the woman tied to the bed with intense hatred, fighting back his urge to run her through with his sword.

She lay perfectly still, almost as if she were already dead, bruised and battered by his hands, looking out the window with vacant unseeing eyes.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. It never had been this way in his imaginings.

Tonight, after so many years of wanting her, he had taken her at last, fighting through her kicking and her thrashing, silencing her screams with his mouth, scratching and beating and clawing his way to force her into submission.

And now that he had finally forced her to be his own, she lay battered and numb and silent, not even looking at him, her eyes devoid of their customary sparkle, farther away from him than she had ever been.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

What did he feel? Anger...disappointment. He felt cheated.

After years and years of fantasizing about this perfect night, he had discovered she was only a woman after all. Her loins held no extraordinary magic, no special powers to thrill him beyond reason. His coupling with her did not wash him from his sins...in fact, it made him feel more dirty than ever before. She was no different than any other whore!

He looked at her lying on the bed, so distant in her mind from him. Her lips were bruised, her eye blackened, her jaw broken, one arm wrenched from its socket. Exhausted from their battle...and more than subdued. Broken.

It was her fault.

She should have chosen him! He had offered her everything...his home, his wealth, his heart, his body...everything, and she had rejected him! Rejected him! She had smiled at him, pretended to befriend him, acted as though she believed in him, but then had betrayed him with Hood, over and over again! She had even tried to kill him, and had believed she had succeeded! What a surprise he had given her tonight!

Using the back of his hand, Gisbourne wiped blood from his mouth...his own blood, brought on by her having biten him. But she hadn't biten because of passion, but because she had struggled to be free.

She wasn't free now, was she? She was his, to do with whatever he willed. It should be sweet, but he was in the depths of hell.

She had betrayed him, over and over, and by God, he would drag her to hell with him!

As he stared at her, his mind replayed all the injuries she had done to him over the years...she, who professed to be his friend. No friend...she was his enemy, even more than Hood.

At last he spoke. "I should have known," he spat. "You led me to believe you'd be special in bed. Like every other thing you told me, you lied."

Her voice was so cold, he barely recognized it. "Get out of my house," she ordered through clenched teeth.

He stepped to the bed and slapped her hard across her face. Blood spurted from her nose, and she uttered a small cry. But Marian rarely cried. He must have really hurt her. It was her fault! She had made him do it!

"I offered you everything!" he cried, with the pent up passion of years.

She turned cold, defiant eyes on him. "I believed you had a heart. I was mistaken." She turned her face away again.

"I showed you another side of me, and you rejected it!"

"Get out of my house," she said again.

"I loved you! You should have been mine!" He was growing hysterical, but she didn't care. She had numbed herself, so as not to feel. She had not cried...she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She wanted this nightmare to end, but she had no idea it was just beginning.


	3. Chapter 3

Marian stared, hollow eyed, out the window of her bedchamber, every inch of her body and soul screaming in pain.

She forced her mind to take her away from this frightful hell of Gisbourne's making. Her kind, loving father giving her her first horse "Princess"...Robin and Much and herself as children climbing trees and rolling down hills and throwing snowballs...Christmas and her children's birthdays and May Day...her very first kiss...her most recent kiss, Robin's long lingering one of goodbye...Robin carrying her over the threshold and up the stairs after their wedding in Locksley Church...their babies...tucking the children in at night when they were small...picnics and prayers and romance...whispered confidences in the dark...Knighton Hall...Vesper and Llanrei and all the horses she had loved...Allan's ribald jokes...Little John's comforting strength...Will and Djaq's amazing intelligence...Robin's blue eyes and his unpredictable smile...Ellen's wedding gown...

"You," Gisbourne resumed his accusations, wrenching her from her thoughts, "are a liar!"

He stood over her, blocking her view out the open window, jealous of anything that took her attention off him. She painfully turned her face away, so as not to have to look at him, but he seized her by her hair and yanked her head back around.

"You will look at me!" he cried.

She closed her eyes, and he slapped her across her face again. "Look at me, you lying whore!"

If she screamed, if she cried out, Gisbourne would murder whomever came to her aid. Her wrists were bound and tied to the bed, the ropes cutting into her flesh. She could not save herself. She opened her eyes and looked blankly into Guy of Gisbourne's steely blue eyes.

"Marian!" he cried in anguish, now that her eyes were on him, "why did you reject me?"

His question left her cold. He saw himself as the victim, and her the inflicter of wounds. He was self absorbed, and completely mad. Pathetic and cruel. Not a completely whole human being. Unworthy even of her hate, yet she hated him for what he had done to her tonight.

"Robin will come home, and he will save me, and he will kill you," she managed to say.

His eyes hardened. He gave a cry and plunged his sword through her bed. She didn't even flinch, but her heart shot to her throat at the next sound she heard.

"Mama? Mama, are you alright?" The voices of her daughters on the other side of the door made her want to scream out a warning. But though she tried, she could barely make a sound.

Gisbourne froze for a moment, and then a sneer played on his features.

"It would appear we have company," he said, striding to the door.

Marian began to cry when he unbolted the door and threw it open. "Guy!" she begged, referring to him by his Christian name for the first time in years. "I beg you! Please! Let them go!"

But he had already grabbed the startled girls and thrown them into the room, and was tying them to the bedposts at the foot of Marian's bed.

"Robin Hood's treasure!" he sneered, "stolen at last! Let's just see how Hood will react, shall we, when he comes home to save you!"


	4. Chapter 4

"The first thing I'll do when I reach Bonchurch, Robin, is to... No, that's the second thing I'll do. The first thing I'll do is soak in a nice warm tub with a tasty leg of lamb and a frothy mug of ale. Or should it be beef? Which do you think, Robin...lamb or beef? Or pig! Pig is good... "

Robin smiled in amusement, listening to Much's endless ramblings as they rode their horses north from Runnymead.

Both men were in wonderful spirits, having achieved more than they'd hoped, for Robin had inspired the other lords to draft a great charter..."Magna Carta," a document containing 63 clauses which the king had been forced to agree to, attaching his seal as his barons stood by, wearing full armor to show their willingness to go to battle should King John refuse their demands. In return for John's agreement to abide by the charter, the lords had repledged allegiance to their monarch. Civil war was avoided, and justice would be served by the charter's new rules, such as the clause stating no free man could be arrested or imprisoned except by lawful judgment of his peers for breaking the law of the land. Copies of the charter were being distributed throughout the country, so all Englishmen and women could be filled with hope for a better, more just nation.

"I should think the very first thing you would do when reaching home would be to kiss your lovely wife," Robin teased, sending Much into a flurry of indecision.

"Yes, of course, there's that! A kiss, yes! And yet, wouldn't I be a more appealing kisser after a meal and a bath? I mean, I could concentrate on Eve much better once I was fed and bathed! Or, Eve could join me..." He broke off in embarrassment, as Robin threw him a mischievious grin.

Much's appearance had changed over the years. He had gained at least two stone, and sported a somewhat paunchy belly, which he tried to hide under the long crimson or blue brocade robes he favored. He wore the hair he had left as long as he ever had, but it was decidedly thin. Yet his large round eyes and honest expression gave him a youthful, innocent air. Allan a Dale claimed he looked like some great, oversized baby.

Robin remained handsome as ever, fit and dashing. His smile still rivalled the sun, his blue eyes still twinkled with fun, and he continued to make female hearts, young and old, flutter as he passed. The only discernable changes to his appearance were a deepening of the creases around his eyes from his ready laughter, and the beginnings of a few silver strands of hair at his temples. Many a maiden sighed herself to sleep at night, wishing Lord Locksley weren't so deeply in love with his wife.

At last, the two friends reached the fork in the road which separated the route from Bonchurch and Locksley. It was time to part and journey to their respective homes. They drew rein.

"We did it, Much," Robin said, happy and proud and filled with hope for the future. His eyes shone as he repeated his favorite quotation. "For every man there is a purpose he sets up in his life. Let yours be the doing of all good deeds."

Much's eyes shone back at his best friend. He was so proud to have taken part in Robin's dream of a brighter tomorrow. He'd never expected it possible, when Robin had first read to him the 12 clauses he had originally outlined, that they'd be able to convince the lords to band together and force the evil king to mend his ways. Now, if only they could trust King John not to go back on his word!

But their duty was done, for now. They needn't think of that at this time. For now, it was time to head home to the families they loved.

"I don't know about you, Much," Robin continued, staring down the road toward Locksley, "but I can't wait to kiss my wife!"

Without another word, he dug his heels into the sides of his mount and pelted down the hillside.

"Not even so much as a goodbye," Much complained to his horse. "Unbelievable! We spend weeks together, working side by side, and the minute he gets within shooting distance of Marian, off he goes! I wouldn't be at all surprised if he breaks his neck, splashing through streams and crashing through hawthorn hedges, in his hurry to get to Marian."

He lifted his voice to call after the disappearing form of his friend. "Don't come crying to me, when you're lying broken and alone in a ditch, while I'm home safe and sound, from taking a nice leisurely pace! Some people never listen!"

Huffing, Much turned his horse and began his slow trot homeward.

...

In almost no time at all, Robin was looking down on the village he adored from the top of a hillside. His horse's breath was labored, for he had driven him as hard as Much knew he would.

It amazed him how his own heart was racing at the thought of seeing his love again. He was smiling in anticipation of their happy reunion.

But something struck him as not quite right. The village looked nearly deserted...his home more so. It was odd, and a feeling of doom crept over him, causing the hair on his arms to stand up.

"Come on, boy," he told his horse, dismissing his instinctive feelings. "I've been listening to Much's worrying too long!"

Grinning widely, he drove his horse at breakneck speed down the hill.

...

**(Note: The mention of an original 12 clause document immediately predating Magna Carta was written by one unknown lord and called the "Unknown Charter of Liberties." It contains the following clauses:**

**"1) King John concedes that he will not take men without judgement, nor accept anything for doing justice, not perform injustice."**

**The other clauses are longer, so I will paraphrase:**

**2) If a man should happen to die, leaving an underage heir, the heir should receive the land due him. The king shall not take it or take unjust money for it.**

**3) If the heir is underage, the king will put the land in charge of four just knights from among the lawful men of the fief, and they will be charged to care for the land wisely. Then, when the heir is of age, the king will let him have it.**

**4) If a woman is heir to the land, the king may not sell her in marriage, but she may marry as she pleases, though not to an enemy of England.**

**5) When a man dies, his money shall be divided as he himself willed, and if he dies in war or illness without willing it, his wife or children, or parents, or friends, shall divide it for the good of his soul.**

**6)** **His widow may remain in her home for at least forty days, and then a dower must be presented to her, and she may marry where she chooses after that.**

**7) The men of England should not be forced to serve in the army outside England.**

**8) And if a scrutage should be imposed in the land, one mark of silver and no more must come from the knight's fee, and if a greater army is needed, the barons of the land must come to an agreement to decide the amount.**

**9) The forestry laws shall be disbanded. (The forestry laws allowed only the king or the lords to hunt deer. Anyone else was punished severly for hunting deer in the forests).**

**10) Each forest shall have its Forester, but his duties are to manage the forest and the number of deer...not to punish anyone who hunts there.**

**11) If any man dies owing money to a Jew, the Jew shall have his money. If the heir is underage, the Jew must wait until the heir becomes of age, but the money shall not gain interest before the money is paid.**

**12) No man shall lose life or limb for forest offenses.**

**This small document inspired Magna Carta, which in its 63 clauses does not mention fighting in foreign wars, and is not so generous to underage heirs or women or Jews. It contains many more clauses protecting the Church, and the barons' money, but it definitely speaks out against the forestry laws, and contains two important clauses limiting the king's power to punish unjustly.**

**When I read this short document, I was surprised because I had just written a story where King John forced Robin to fight in his war in France, and I did not know this was something that was actually protested. Also, I think the generosity toward women in this short document must have been unusual during the age, especially since Magna Carta did not pick up this thread.) **


	5. Chapter 5

Robin's impression of portending doom increased when he rode into the yard of his home. No one ran forth from the house or stables to greet him or take his horse, and he slid from his steed's back and led him to the stables himself.

"Michael! George!" His call for his stable boys was left unanswered. His home seemed eerily deserted. He quickly set about the business of unsaddling his horse and made certain there was fresh hay and water.

The smell of smoke made his nostrils twitch, for it was too warm for fires to be lit, even at night, and Robin could tell the smoke did not come from cooking fires. Had the house caught fire? But no, everything seemed alright on that account.

The silence was oppressive. Where could everyone be?

Striding through his front door, he nearly collided with Will Scarlet. His relief at seeing his friend was shortlived, for Will's tear stained pale and sympathetic face raised his alarm. His pulse began to race as a sense of panic seized him.

"Will? What are you doing here? Where's Marian? Where are my girls?"

Then he saw the smoke damage.

The rear of his house had burned, as if it had been set ablaze, but the fire had thankfully been put out before it had damaged the entire structure.

Robin breathed out a sigh of immense relief. So, that is why it was so quiet! The damage in Locksley could be repaired, and everyone who had left could return home. Still, it was odd they had gone in the first place. The damage certainly wasn't extensive. The house was livable, if not exactly comfortable.

Will managed to answer his friend at last. In a voice choked with grief, he began haltingly, "Robin, last night, Gisbourne was here..." His voice trailed off.

"Gisbourne?"

What kind of nightmare was this? Gisbourne had long been dead! Marian had shot him years ago. Unless Will was referring to Isabella? But she hadn't been heard from in years either.

"Will?" Robin asked again, his eyes darting back and forth from Will's haunted eyes to the closed doors of the rooms upstairs in his beloved home.

His heart felt frozen in his chest, a hard block of ice that began to hurt. His breathing grew labored as he dashed up the steps of his house, not from exertion, but from emotion. He heard his own voice calling for Marian, but nobody answered in return.

The door to his room opened and closed. Djaq had stepped from the doorway, and she now blocked his path. Tears were welling up in her kind eyes, and Robin experienced a sense of deja vu. He couldn't shake the feeling he was thrust back in time, back in the cave in Sherwood, with Djaq apologizing for not being able to save Marian from Gisbourne's dagger.

"Robin," she said, "I'm sorry. You must listen before you go in there."

This was a nightmare...it had to be! In a moment or two, he would awaken in Marian's loving arms, as he had on so many nights, and her gentle hands and lovely voice would soothe away his fears.

"Marian," he said weakly.

Will had climbed the stairs behind him, and Robin watched him take his wife's small dark hand. The two of them stood before the door to Robin's room, asking him to sit on a bench on the landing, while they explained.

"This will be the hardest moment of your life, Robin," Djaq was saying. He heard her voice coming to him through a thick fog. Everything seemed unreal as he tried to comprehend her words.

"Your family is on the other side of the door," Djaq explained. "But they were killed last night."

"No!" Robin leaped to his feet, and Will tried unsuccessfully to to ease him back onto the bench.

"You must believe they live in Heaven now," Djaq said comfortingly. The irony of a Saracen speaking of the Christian Heaven was lost in the trauma of the moment.

Robin's throat was so tight he couldn't make a sound. His lungs couldn't get enough air as he gulped down huge breaths. Somehow, he walked to the door to his room and pushed it open.

The room stank with the smell of death.

There, side by side on his bed, lay the dead bodies of his beloved wife and their two daughters.

...

**(Please do not hate me for killing Marian in this story. This story follows the actual Robin Hood legends, which has Marian killed after being happily married to Robin for 15-20 years, by a Black Knight while Robin was returning home from Runnymead after making King John sign Magna Carta. Although Guy of Gisbourne was not the actual knight who performed the killing, Gisbourne was one of the knights who plotted her death as revenge on "Hood." My source is THE COMPLETE ROBIN HOOD GUIDE, which reprints most of the actual legends, and also paraphrases them in modern English, and contains an extensive glossary of names and places.)**


	6. Chapter 6

"Tell me it's not true."

Allan a Dale burst into Locksley Manor, winded from his mad ride from Nottingham. Word had spread all over town about the brutal murders in Locksley the night before, and Allan had ridden to the village as quickly as he could.

"Tell me," he insisted.

Will could only look at him in sorrow. It was up to Djaq to confirm the terrible truth.

"They are dead," she said quietly. "All three of them. Robin's upstairs with them now."

"Robin?" Allan's head was spinning. He couldn't believe Marian was gone, nor the lovely girls. He sank to a bench and put his head in his hands.

Marian had always been a special friend to him, ever since they had survived the whims and wiles living under Vaisey in Nottingham Castle, back in the days when Robin had been an outlaw. Marian had saved Allan's life by begging Robin to spare him, and he had returned the favor by saving her from the hangman's noose. They had always shared a give and take sort of relationship, understanding each other when others, too emotionally invested in them, might be blinded by feelings.

He couldn't accept that she was gone.

But Djaq was also a special friend. She was kneeling beside him now, her calm presence seeming to flow into him, giving him strength.

"We must be strong, for Robin." she said.

Allan lifted eyes wet with tears. Standing, he nodded his head, acknowledging his resolve first to Djaq, then to Will.

Little John lumbered through the door. He didn't need to be told. He could read the situation perfectly, though he had never read a book. His fatherly presence caused Djaq to give way to her tears.

John strode forward and clasped the tiny woman in his huge embrace. "There, there, little one," he murmured quietly.

"Someone needs to fetch Much," Will said, but no one seemed to have the energy for it.

"I'll go," Little John volunteered, handing off a sobbing Djaq to her husband's arms. And even though he had just arrived, he turned and headed back out the doorway, toward Bonchurch.

...

Memories flooded Robin's mind in such rapid succession, he couldn't tell where one ended and another began.

_"Congratulations, Papa...it's a girl." Matilda handed him the tiny red faced bundle, and his eyes filled with happy tears as he stared into the miraculously beautiful crying face of his firstborn._

_"Good lungs," he laughed to Marian, prouder than a peacock._

_"Just like Her Majesty," Marian smiled back._

_"Then it's settled. We'll name her 'Ellen,' just as you wanted."_

_Ellen's little girl voice piped up. "Daddy! Daddy! Gracie's fallen off the roof!"_

_He dashed into the yard and scooped up the fallen body of his younger daughter._

_"Daddy, it hurts!" Grace was trying to be brave._

_Vastly relieved she wasn't more badly hurt, he comforted, "Shh! It's alright Blossom. Djaq's coming. She'll make you all better."_

_"_Djaq!" Robin called now, not realizing he had cried out.

Djaq came running up the stairs and entered the room.

"Make them well," he ordered. "Make Marian well again."

"Robin, I cannot," she said apologetically.

He seized Djaq by her lower arms and turned her to face him. "Make them well!"

Staring into Djaq's unblinking eyes, he felt the hopelessness of the situation, and he released Djaq's arms and staggered toward the bed.

Dropping to his knees beside his dead wife's side, he cried in a choked voice, "Marian!"

Will and Allan stood in the doorway. Allan turned his face away. He couldn't bear to see the lifeless forms on the bed.

"We need to bury them, Robin," Will said quietly. "I've built them coffins."

"Leave us," Robin hissed at them from the bedside, his voice cutting through the room like steel.

His three loyal friends stepped from the room again, leaving him alone with the bodies of his family.

After many moments during which he did not move or utter a sound, Robin kissed the forehead and lips of his dead wife. How cold she was! How pale! "Marian?" he begged, stroking her beautiful hair.

Seizing her body in his arms, he tried to squeeze life back into it, but it was more stiff than a board. "No," he whispered, to the empty room, "you cannot bury her. She'll die if you leave her in the ground. I will not let you bury any of them!"

"Come back, my love," he whispered to Marian, over and over again. "Come back. The girls and I need you."


	7. Chapter 7

Little John found Much soaking blissfully in a bath in Bonchurch Lodge, but had broken his bliss with the woeful tale of Marian, Ellen, and Grace's murders. As soon as Much was able to comprehend the terrible news, he knew exactly what he must do.

"I must go to Robin," he told Eve, his round blue eyes nearly popping from his face in his distress.

But now that he stood outside the door to Robin's bedchamber, knowing what lay on the other side, Much hesitated. He didn't want to go in there. He didn't want to see the dead bodies, or Robin either in the fragile state of mind he knew his friend to be in. Every impulse was urging him to run, but he summoned every bit of strength and willpower he had, and opened the door.

The stickly sweet smell of death assaulted his nostrils, and he pulled the door shut again, breathing heavily.

Closing his eyes, Much prayed, "Please, Lord, please! Give me strength to help him!"

With a deep breath and a pounding heart, he reopened the door.

Three bodies lay on the bed...no, there were four. Much grimaced when his eyes made out the sight of Robin lying on the bed, holding the lifeless body of his wife in his arms, trying to will life back into her.

Much tried not to look at the dead bodies. Djaq had prepared them for burial, cleaning up the blood as well as possible, but they did not resemble themselves at all. Bloating had set in, and Much knew he had to help Robin return to a right state of mind so his family could be buried. Little John, Will, and Allan were outside on the hilltop graveyard of Robin's ancestors this very moment, digging the graves.

At least Much was spared that task. It was he who had dug Marian's grave in Acre so many years before...the only thing he had been able to do to help Robin at that dreadful time. Yet Marian had not truly been dead! Just as she had done the year before, she had somehow cheated death, and returned to them!

On two previous occasions, Gisbourne had stabbed Marian, and she had died and returned from death. No wonder Robin refused to believe she was gone. But Much would have to make him believe. One look at her corpse was enough to convince Much that Marian would never return. As the saying went, "Three's the charm," and Gisbourne's third attempt had truly killed her.

"I hate sayings," Much muttered silently.

Gingerly, he placed a hand on Robin's shoulder. "Robin," he ventured quietly, "it's Much. I'm here."

"Go." It was a command, not to be challenged.

Much squeezed his friend's shoulder. "Robin, Marian wouldn't want you to do this. You need to take care of your family. You need to bury them."

In a furious instant, Robin was up and had pushed Much backwards against a wall. His hands gripped his friend's throat in a stranglehold.

"How do you know what Marian wants eh? How can you be sure?"

Much couldn't answer. He couldn't even breathe. His voice came out in choking, garbled sounds, as he fought desperately for air.

Much looked into the wild eyes of his best friend...the friend who was nearly killing him. He prayed Robin would release him so that there wouldn't have to be four burials tonight.

Robin's soul was spun into a void of bloodied rage, his reason totally gone. He looked at Much through red rimmed narrowed eyes, keen and hard and murderous.

"How do you know?" he repeated, his voice cold as steel.

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, his rage eased, and he released Much and sank to the floor. He sat huddled in a tight ball, arms crossed over his raised knees, his head down, his eyes open and unblinking.

When Much could breathe again, he dropped to his knees beside Robin and simply sat beside him quietly, waiting.

After what felt like an eternity, Much repeated gently, "Robin, your family needs you. They need to be buried. Can you do this for them?"

"Now?" Robin's question came out as a small, frightened gulp.

"Right now. Djaq has brought Father Gregory. Everything is ready." He paused, wiping at tears which had suddenly filled his eyes. "Are you?"

"Let me first say..." Robin's hollow voice trailed off. He couldn't say the word "goodbye."

He rose and returned to stand by the bed. Those weren't his girls lying there. No. Not his lively impulsive Grace. Not his preciously sweet Ellen. And that wasn't Marian. Not any longer.

"Much?" he cried in a helpless voice.

Much rose and ran to his side.

"Help me," Robin begged.


	8. Chapter 8

Much held Robin in a what he hoped was a comforting embrace, worried as his friend's body could not seem to stop its violent shaking. If only Robin would cry, perhaps things would be better.

He remembered Robin's behavior the other times they'd believed Marian dead. This time would be even worse, Much feared. Years of living together as man and wife had deepened the already endless love between the two. Worse yet, the loss of his children would surely send Robin over the edge of some vast unknown pit of hell. Much knew how greatly he treasured his daughters, loving them more than life itself. The loss of all three of his loved ones at one fell swoop was unthinkable...unbearable.

Much would do whatever he could to help his friend, but his friendship, love, and loyalty could never be enough to get him over this loss. It needed a miracle to save Robin this time.

...

Evening. Darkness setting in, extinguishing the light of the day that had seen his precious angels die. Evening on the hilltop. Torches...hundreds of torches carried by those who have returned to see Marian and the girls be buried under the ground.

God was right when He claimed to be a jealous God. He bestowed blessings and then snatched them away when they were too precious for mere humans, jealously seizing them for Himself. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Thanks be to God. Jealous God. Cruel jealous God.

What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead give him a serpent? You, Father...You will give him a serpent. You are the Father who does that. Why did I not teach Ellie and Grace the correct answer to God's question? Why? Because I'd never, never guessed the answer would be God.

"Merciful Father, we gather together to honor and bury these..."

You are deceived, Father Gregory. God has no mercy. Not today He doesn't. He allows Gisbourne who was dead to live and walk free, while Grace and Ellen and Marian lie cold and silent, to rot under the ground.

Gisbourne. Gisbourne is the serpent. The huge black snake that slithers over the ground and hides under rocks.

"Our hearts are pierced by their untimely deaths, yet through it all, we gain comfort, knowing that You, Heavenly Creator, are still in control."

So, You are in control, are You? Just like King John. Well, be warned, I never was one to tolerate injustice.

"Heavenly Father, we humbly ask that You be with us to guide our steps and comfort our hearts, as only You can do."

No, thank You. I'll do this alone. I'm through with You.

"Receive their souls into Your Heavenly Kingdom..."

Jealous God. Cruel God. Why give when You only seek to take away?

...

The crowd in Locksley surged, as many came to honor the dead. The light from hundreds of torches turned the night to day, but darkness dwelt in every heart.

Robin's friends watched his grim face as Father Gregory spoke words of comfort. All were devasted in their sorrow, yet their grief could not diminish their fears. Danger lurked behind Robin's eyes. He was in some terrible dark place, and they knew him well enough to realize he would not rest until he acted upon his fury.

And act he did. Just as the first clods of earth hit the wooden caskets placed in the ground, Robin took off like a man possessed down the hill toward his house. Before anyone could get close, he had gathered his weapons, mounted a horse, and was seen riding furiously toward the forest.


	9. Chapter 9

"Gisbourne!" Robin leapt from his horse and cried out his enemy's name before his feet touched the ground.

He had tracked him to this place...tracked him, even though it was an impossible feat in the darkness. He somehow knew Gisbourne was close. His instincts had been awakened with his fury, and both alerted him now to his enemy's presence.

The forest remained still. Not even the hoot of a faraway owl interrupted the dreadful quiet.

"I know you're here, you murdering bastard," Robin uttered menacingly. "Come out and show yourself, coward."

A slight rustle of leaves in a thicket made Robin nock an arrow and shoot. Running to the bushes with murder in his eyes, he parted the foliage, sword upraised to strike.

A cry arose, and Robin felt himself attacked from behind. Swiftly, he spun around to face Guy of Gisbourne, covered in the hide of an animal, lunging at him with the sword that had slain his loved ones.

Robin couldn't speak, so filled he was with hatred at the sight of Gisbourne.

"Prepare to die with the rest of them, Locksley," Gisbourne sneered, his voice choked with rage and fear.

The two adversaries locked in a fierce battle, the clashing of their swords breaking the silence of the night.

"You forget, I won this battle once before, Hood," Gisbourne snarled, remembering how Robin had fallen and hit his head on a boulder. There was no cliff to throw Hood's body over tonight, however, and Gisbourne feared he himself would be the one who never awakened from this bloody fight.

He was quaking with fear, yet hatred and revenge drove him onward. Suddenly, he cried aloud in anger and pain, as Robin's curved blade swept over his guard and cut him in his shoulder.

"Die, Hood, die!" Gisbourne shouted, enraged and terrified by the Earl of Huntington's skill and silence.

"Where are your clever remarks, Hood? Say something, fiend!"

Still Robin wouldn't speak, disarming Gisbourne further.

With one deft blow, Gisbourne managed to sweep his blade under Robin's, and he caught the former outlaw under his arm. The wound proved no more than a scratch, but before he could withdraw his sword arm, Robin replied with a lightening quick stroke, embedding his scimitar to the hilt in Gisbourne's chest. Gisbourne dropped to his knees as Robin withdrew his sword, then rolled forward onto the ground.

Panting heavily, Robin stared at the blood dripping from his Saracen sword as Gisbourne lay dying. Images of Acre flooded his consciousness, propelling him to a world of nightmares. With an Arabic curse on his lips, he pulled Gisbourne's body up by the hair on his head, and with a single stroke, sliced his head clean off his body.

The headless body dropped to the ground. The head, still lifted in Robin's left hand, gushed blood.

Robin stared into the dead man's evil eyes, then, still gripping the head, ran and picked up his bow from where he had thrown it. With a wild cry, he removed the bowstring, dug one end of his bow into the ground, then jammed Gisbourne's head onto the upraised end. Gisbourne's head rested on the point unsteadily, his open eyes staring back into Robin's.

Still behaving as one possessed, Robin seized his hunting knife and began carving away at Gisbourne's face, marring it so as to make it unrecognizable. First, he retraced the scar on Gisbourne's cheek he had given him years ago, then began cutting away, hacking and slicing and jabbing at the face until it became nothing more than a mass of torn tissue and bone.

The air was suddenly rent apart by cries, interrupting Robin from his madness.

"Robin! What are you doing? Robin, stop!"

His former outlaw friends had found him in the forest.

...

**(Note: Gruesome, I know, but entirely based on two separate accounts of Robin's murder of Gisbourne. I did some research, since the first story I had stopped after he embedded his sword to the hilt in his chest. The other story was harder to read, being in an older form of English, and it did not clearly say he chopped off his head, but said he pulled it up by the hair, stuck it on his bow, and marred the features with his knife to be unrecognizable. I couldn't see anyone could do that unless he had beheaded him first).**


	10. Chapter 10

"Marian!"

Robin's anguished cry startled him awake, even though he hadn't uttered a sound. The cry erupting from the darkened depths of his soul hadn't reached his lips, and his voice remained silent as a tomb.

He sat up and looked around him in the darkness, his movements static and jerky. He'd remained in Sherwood, sheltering Sherwood, yet he experienced no sense of shelter here tonight.

His clothing was stiff with dried blood. Gisbourne's blood covered him, coating his hands and arms to his elbows. It was smeared and splattered through his hair and beard, on his face and neck and chest. Every inch of him seemed drenched in the bloody effects of his brutal revenge.

Washed in the blood of the serpent, he told himself; he, who had once eagerly taught his bright little girls what the priest meant when he said they were "washed in the blood of the lamb."

The serpent. He had slain the serpent at last. Sliced his vile head from his putrid body.

"Slice off their heads before they strike," King Richard had personally instructed him how to kill venomous snakes when they arrived in the Holy Land. "How else do you think the Saracens get their practice? The Saracens will do the same to you, unless you kill them first. So kill them all! It is no sin to kill a Saracen!"

And Robin had obeyed the king he revered, and killed and killed and killed and killed...being told he was earning his way to Heaven, when all the time he believed Heaven couldn't be earned. It was by grace they were saved. Grace!

"Daddy, let me try! Watch me!" "Do it again, Daddy!" "More dragon story!"

No, Gracie. Daddy can't tell you the dragon story ever again. Daddy slew the dragon serpent; the serpent who had slithered his way into Locksley, torturing its people; the serpent who had sought to steal Marian.

Marian. His beautiful Marian and their two bright little girls. No longer girls...young ladies now. How had they grown up so quickly?

Ellen getting married? That thought alone made his head spin. One day she had been tiny, tripping along beside him, her little hand clasped in his. The next she was singing a love song as she sewed her own wedding dress!

He wondered how he would fare with her out of the house. He knew he needed to let her go, but how he would miss her!

How he would miss her. Robin froze as realization hit him.

The serpent had struck before he'd sliced off its head. Why had he not killed him years before when he'd had the chance? "I live in hell," the serpent had said, and he thought it more satisfying to let him stay there.

But no longer. He'd killed him at last, and taken his head, yanking it off the end of his bow and hurling at those who had stopped him from killing him before, to give him time to make his escape.

He couldn't face the sympathy in their eyes. Let them deal with their own grief, and leave him to his.

Marian! He wouldn't accept she was gone! She had always been there for him, surprising him when he'd least expected her aid. She would come back to him...surprise him again...simply turn up one day, looking fresh and lovely and welcome him with her kisses.

He didn't want to wait for that day. He would search for her now.

"I know I'll find you again," he thought, rising to his feet to begin his search.

That decaying corpse he'd seen buried had not been Marian. No. She wasn't under the ground on the hilltop in Locksley. She would be here, playing hide and seek with him in the forest. But he would find her. He had always found her, no matter where she chose to hide, infuriating her by always winning the game.

He looked around him in the darkness, trying to guess which way she had gone. Of course! East, close to Knighton! He turned his face to the east and took off running, looking for his angel.


	11. Chapter 11

All the former outlaws searched, but it was Much who found Robin, lying postrate on his belly in the field where Knighton Hall once proudly stood.

Much slowly drew in his breath. What should he say? No words of his could help his friend! He hated this! Why had this happened?

But Robin needed his help...that much was clear. Robin lay face down in the field, covered in dried blood, arms and legs spread widely apart as if he had thrown himself to the ground trying to embrace it. Or else be swallowed up by it.

"Robin?" Much asked softly, panic hitting him as he wondered whether Robin might be lying with his own knife plunged in his chest.

Much released a sigh of relief when his friend rolled over, his eyelids fluttering open.

Robin's face wore a whizzical look, then hardened when memory returned. He glared icily at Much, as if he was furious at having been awakened.

"Robin," Much warned him, "the sheriff's sent men out looking for you. You're in danger. You're wanted for Gisbourne's murder. You...you've got to hide."

King John had replaced his brother Richard's appointed Sheriff Wilfred with his own man...his former envoy who had visited Nottingham years ago the day Sheriff Vaisey had disappeared in Sherwood for a day. That same weaselly little man who couldn't wait to see Nottingham burn to the ground also couldn't wait to see Robin of Locksley die, having endured Robin's challenges to his authority time and time again.

"Let them come." Robin's voice was cold and deliberate, and Much knew he welcomed death. And punishment.

"No, Robin," Much protested. "You are not to blame for their deaths. I was gone, too. Why not blame me? Why not blame Marian, for not better protecting the girls?"

Much's voice had broken at the mention of Marian's name, but he forced himself to bravely continue. "No! No one's to blame but Gisbourne, and you saw to his punishment. Now, get up and get going!"

Robin made no move to go, other than to sit up. It was a start.

"Go, Robin!" Much continued. "Go hide in Sherwood! We'll find you, but the sheriff's men cannot! Then, once everyone learns about the steps of justice we put into place by making the king agree to our charter, you can come back and be cleared of all wrongdoing."

Robin's next words surprised Much.

"You are to blame," he said icily.

"What?"

"You stopped me from killing the serpent years ago, when I had the chance."

"I...I...I...I..."

"I had him at my swordpoint, tied to a tree, and you wouldn't let me kill him."

"Well, I, uh...I did the right thing, Robin! You had no proof he'd tried to kill King Richard!"

"Hadn't I?"

"Well, there was that tattoo, but we all thought it was just your jealousy over Mari-" Much stopped, not wanting to say her name.

"Look," Much began again, "I know it's easier for you to deal with your anger than your sorrow. So go ahead and be mad at me, Robin! Go ahead and hate me! Just get out of here and hide!"

"You hide."

"You're leaving, if I have to drag you away myself!"

Much made as if to lift Robin to his feet, but was rewarded for his loyalty by Robin springing up, drawing his sword, and pointing it at his friend's chest.

Much looked appealingly into Robin's eyes. He didn't believe his friend would hurt him...there was too much brotherly love between them. But he also knew his friend was using his anger to hide from his grief. Much just needed to get him away somehow! If the sheriff caught him, he'd hang him before Magna Carta was ever known to exist.

It didn't matter that the former sheriff had put a bounty on Gisbourne's head, rewardng anyone who would bring him to justice, dead or alive. The current sheriff looked for any excuse at all to execute Robin of Locksley. Gisbourne's brutal murder was just the excuse he'd been seeking.

Just as Much was trying to think up what next to say, the bushes behind Robin silently parted, revealing Little John. His gaze met Much's as he silently inched his way closer. While Much rambled on, sputtering excuses, Little John raised his staff and brought it down soundly on Robin's head.

Robin dropped senseless to the ground, and Little John wasted no time lifting him over his shoulders and hauling him away, to hide him in the forest.


	12. Chapter 12

Robin awoke, head splitting, not knowing where he was in the forest or how he had arrived. The memory of his family's death surged in his mind, casting his soul back into the depths of a blackened pit of despair. He closed his eyes and longed for death.

"Oh! You're awake!"

Much's voice. Much again. Robin couldn't handle his friend's ever present loyalty.

"Go home, Much," he said, his voice expressionless. "Go home to your family."

The words caught in his throat. He opened his eyes, to see Much's eyes welling up with tears. Shutting his again, he tried to block out the sight.

"Now you're awake, you bathe." Little John was here as well, issuing an order. Anger overtook Robin.

"Why so fastidious, John?" he asked, using words he knew John didn't understand. "I must be filthy, if you need me to bathe."

"You're covered in blood," Much explained. "The vultures were circling, thinking you might be dinner, until you wakened and moved."

"Robin," Little John ignored Much, "go throw yourself in the stream, before I throw you in there myself!"

Robin remained motionless, and Little John made good on his threat. While Much sputtered objections, John heaved Robin over his shoulders and carried him to the stream, then tossed him, fully clothed, into the frigid water.

Shocked out of his despair, Robin came up sputtering. The water stained red as Gisbourne's blood washed off Robin.

With startled, hurt eyes, Robin eyed his two friends on the bank, one so worried and fretful, the other commanding and stern. It was easier to deal with the sterness. He wanted to issue John a threat himself for throwing him into the stream, but he found he hadn't the energy. He closed his eyes again, letting himself sink under the water.

He let his body float face down in the still muddied darkness of the stream. He longed to stay under here forever, just drifting, letting everything go. Don't even think of pulling me to the surface, his mind begged Little John. Let me die. If you are my true friend, let me go.

And then, the underwater muffled stillness was broken by the oddest sound. Robin could swear he heard children laughing. He tried to block out the happy sound of their laughter, but he could not.

In recognition, he gasped, and nearly drowned as he took in water. He quickly rose to the surface of the stream, spitting out water. The sound of laughter stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

"Good! I was worried you weren't coming up," Much was saying.

Ignoring him, Robin dove back under the water again, listening for the sound.

It wasn't only children's laughter he had heard...it was Ellen's laughter. Grace's laughter. Even more surprising, he'd heard his son Edward's laughter. Edward had been gone nearly ten years, yet Robin unmistakably recognized the sound. And there was more. Two more voices he couldn't recognize. All laughing, ecstatically happily.

And then, even more incredible...Marian's laughter. The sound of Marian's laughter from when she had been a small girl. Robin heard her, and he no longer wished for death. He needed to live, so he could listen to the laughter! But he couldn't live without air. His lungs were close to bursting, and he forced his body to erupt to the surface of the stream, just as Little John was about to pull him up by the hair on his head.

"No, you're no going to let yourself die that way," John scolded him.

But Robin didn't care. Once he'd filled his lungs with air, he plunged back under the water again, and waited.

"Laugh," he begged. "Laugh for me again."

But the only sounds he heard were the muffled arguments of Much and Little John, coming from above the surface of the water.

...

King John stood in Windsor Castle, eagerly reading the news the courrier from Nottingham had brought to him. The king desperately needed such a piece of information, after his humiliation in the field at Runnymead.

"Thank God for Gisbourne!" he exclaimed.

"What is it?" Queen Isabella of Angloumene asked, scowling at her husband.

"Glorious news!" John proclaimed. "After years of hiding in France and Spain, Guy of Gisbourne returned to Locksley, did a bit of mischief, and, listen carefully, for this is the glorious part, was brutally murdered, beheaded, and mutilated by Robin of Locksley!"

"So?"

"So? Is that all you can say...'So?' My dear, you don't know what balm this brings to my soul! Locksley was the one behind that vicious document I had to seal, forcing me to forgo my Divine Right as King! And now, Locklsey proves what a madman he truly is! Oh, I knew it all along! I knew it simply ages ago! Do you know what this means?"

"No."

"You wouldn't, being stupid as a bowl of eggs. This means, my dull witted wife, I get to have a spot of fun with Locksley! Why should he get all the mutilating and murdering fun? Indeed! This proves the wretched document I was forced to seal isn't worth the parchment it's written on. In fact, someone bring me my copy! I'll use it to wipe my royal ass, once I've expelled the bile from me! And once I've done that, I'll journey to Nottingham, declare Locksley 'Robin Hood the Outlaw' once again, put a price on his head no peasant can refuse, catch him, and dispose of him the most vicious way I can think of! How delightful! And just see if any of the lords challenge me then! Without their leader, they are nothing!"

King John practically skipped, he was so eager to be off to Nottingham. "Magna Carta...Magna Farta!' he giggled, releasing a loud fart.

"To Locksley!"

...

**(Note: In a very short time after fixing his seal in agreement to Magna Carta, the real King John went back on his word and disobeyed what he had sworn to in the document.)**


	13. Chapter 13

Robin lay shivering, dreaming fretfully, while Little John stood watch.

John had finally convinced Much to go home to Bonchurch, but he knew Much would not be able to keep away from Robin for long. He would soon return, and Little John wouldn't be surprised to find Will, Djaq, or Allan with him.

It comforted John to know they would come, no matter how hard Robin tried to force them away. They were closer than family, all of them, and it was time to rally round their former leader and hold him up to keep him from hurtling toward madness or death.

They shared his grief...not to the same extent, but they had all loved Marian and the girls. Every one of them were battling shock and disbelief at the sudden, brutal murders, but they pushed aside their own despair in their need to help Robin.

Tears spilled down John's cheeks, wetting his tangled beard, as he watched Robin tossing and turning in a fitful sleep. "God help him," the giant quietly muttered.

...

Robin had the sense he was dreaming, yet it was all so real to him, he couldn't say for certain whether he was awake or asleep.

He was making his way through the forest, driven towards the stream, but it was nearly impossible to reach the water's edge. He had to reach it! Something was urging him onward...some deep seeded need within him.

Branches slapped him in the face...trees shot up out of the earth, blocking his path, yet he surged onward, cutting and hacking his way with his sword. Still the trees grew, thicker and heartier than before. The forest grew darker as the sun was blotted from the sky.

His bow. It would take a single arrow shot, he knew...not a hundred swipes with his sword. Drawing an arrow from his quiver, he nocked it to his bow, aimed a shot through the ever thickening foliage, and fired.

He found himself standing on the edge of the stream. The air smelled different, fresh and sweet and clear. Sunlight danced on the sparkling crystal clear water.

Robin's heart felt light...joyous. He felt the urge to run and leap and roll down hills, to climb trees and leap backwards from the highest branches. He felt the urge to dive into the water and swim, knowing his arms would never tire in this water.

And then he saw her, and his heart leaped in his chest.

Marian stood wading in the stream, wearing a fresh gown of yellow and white flecked with tiny blue flowers. She had hitched the gown up to her knees, to keep it from getting wet. Wearing a gentle, dreamy smile, she bent to dip her fingers into the clear cool water. She was beautiful...ageless...unblemished and pure. So content...so tranquil. Robin's heart ached just to look at her. He wanted to call out her name, but found he couldn't make a sound.

"Marian! It's me, Robin," he silently voiced his thoughts toward her, hoping she would somehow hear.

She froze, and he saw her take in a quick, startled breath. Her smile widened, and she looked up expectantly. She had heard him! Slowly, she looked all around, trying to find him. She stared right through him, not making him out, but kept looking.

"I'm here!" his thoughts called to her. Still, she did not see, though her face shone with anticipation as she searched for him.

"Marian!" He tried to run to her, but every step he took caused the water to recede, and he remained on land while she waded in the water.

"Help me," his soul whispered, and swift as lightening, he saw her eyes lock onto his and he felt waves of exhilaration surge through him.

They smiled at each other through a mist, through a fog, neither one blinking or willing to look away. She was so young...so fresh...he felt old and unworthy. Yet just looking at her made the years wash away. Gazing at the form of his love, he felt he was being handed a special and rare gift.

"A secret," her soul was whispering to his.

"What? What secret, Marian?" He took another step toward her, only to be disappointed to see the water recede again, and to find her still distant from him.

"Five," she answered, so proudly.

"Five? I don't understand. Help me to understand."

"Five." She was smiling at him, her eyes shining with such love and pride. It reminded him how they had shone when she had delivered their children.

And then he got it.

Five children? His heart felt light as he counted them. There were Ellen and Grace and Edward, of course. And Richard, their son who had lived only a few short hours. But there must be one more. Of course! There was the child she had just begun to carry when Gisbourne had plunged his sword through her in the Holy Land. The child who had never been born.

Robin had heard five children laughing under the water. Five children, before he had heard Marian's happy laughter.

His joy knew no bounds. "Boy, or girl?" his soul asked, and he felt akin to how he'd felt when Matilda had first placed the newly born Ellen in his arms.

Marian was telling him, but he couldn't make out her answer. The fog was coming on thick, hiding her from him. He beat his hands through it, crying out her name with his voice which had returned with the fog.

"Marian! Marian!" he was crying.

Little John shook him awake, and Robin sat up, staring about him with wild eyes.

"You're in the forest," John told him calmly. "You're with me, Robin."

Instantly, Robin leaped to his feet and ran for the stream. Before John could stop him, he had plunged his body into the murky water, running and splashing and fighting his way through it, calling and crying out the name of his lost love.


	14. Chapter 14

"How is he?" Allan nervously asked Little John, seeing Robin lying immobile on the forest floor, his unblinking eyes staring blankly at the treetops over their heads.

"Him," Little John began, then finished his answer with a long, drawn out moan.

"Yeah. Well, can't say as I blame him." Noticing how exhausted John looked, Allan offered, "Go home, Big Man. I'll keep him company for awhile."

Little John gave Allan a grateful look, then surprised him by clasping him in a warm, hairy bear hug.

"Now, don't start," Allan begged, fighting back tears. "It's hard enough without you makin' me blubber. Go on. Go home and get some rest."

"Them, I liked," Little John said sadly, gathering up his few belongings.

Both men tensed when they heard the sound of horses approaching. Robin, however, remained frigidly still.

"Take cover!" Allan whispered urgently, but there was no need. The horses carried no enemies upon their backs, but only Will and Djaq.

Will's face was ashen; his eyes dark hazel orbs in his worried face.

"What's wrong?" Allan asked, helping Djaq dismount.

"It's Locksley," Will answered breathlessly, gulping for air. "It's-"

Because he could not finish, his wife came to his aid. Placing a steady hand on his arm, Djaq told them, "The king arrived, and ordered all of it burnt. The manor...the village...there is nothing left."

...

For a time, everyone remained frozen in disbelief, trying to make sense of King John's destructive order. All looked to Robin, who still had not moved. At last, his voice, hoarse and cracked, pierced the stillness.

"Where are my people?" he asked.

Will approached his friend, standing beside him in deepest sympathy. "Scattered," he answered. "The king's after the entire village."

"King John claims the people are harboring you, Robin," Djaq added. "You're wanted again, with a price on your head. The king's boasting he'll catch you and-"

"And carve off your face while you're still alive, then have you fed to wild animals." Will supplied the gory details, sparing his wife from saying them.

Robin sat up at last, his face still expressionless.

"I see," he said, then stood and faced the others. "Goodbye, my friends." Robin looked at each of them individually, then turned and began to walk away.

"Whoa there!" Allan cried, running and blocking Robin's path. "You're not gonna turn yourself in! Look, we all know how much you want to die right now, and we don't blame you, but we'll be damned if we let you."

"It's a good day," Robin murmured sadly.

"It's never a good day to die, Robin," Djaq told him.

Robin didn't have the spirit to argue. "Just let me," he begged. "Just let me go."

"No." Little John was adament.

At that moment, Much pushed his way through foliage and joined them.

"Robin?" Much's voice betrayed his concern. "I'm sorry I left you. I visited my family, like you told me to. But I'm here now. Are you...are you alright?"

Robin took one look into the caring eyes of his boyhood friend, and crumbled at last. Before them all, he collapsed to his knees and dissolved into tears. Sobs poured from his broken heart and spirit, shaking his body with their violence.

Djaq held Much back. "You must let him get it out. He can at last begin to heal."

"But I want to help him!" Much cried.

"He'll need all the help he can get," Allan agreed. "Being fed to wild animals! What?"

Will watched Robin sobbing in the dirt, but didn't see the broken man. Will saw the gallant hero who had risked everything to save him from the noose so many years before.

"We'll help him to help others," Will vowed. "That's what will heal him. That's who he is."

"We all help," Little John agreed. "We are Robin Hood!"

"We are Robin Hood!" the rest chimed in.

Hearing the familar cry, Robin lifted tragic red rimmed eyes. Summoning what remained of his courage, he silently promised, "I'll keep fighting, Marian. I'll keep fighting for you, my love."


	15. Chapter 15

Epilogue

The following year, King John died unexpectedly.

On an October day in 1216, in his unrelenting campaign to punish his lords who had forced him to agree to Magna Carta, he lost the treasure he always carted around with him. As his troops crossed the River Wash to punish his lords, the river tide unexpectantly rose up, covering the carts and horses hauling the king's gold and jewels. Even the crown itself was lost, buried under the mud at the river's bottom. The king wept bitter tears, stomped his feet in a rage, and foamed at the mouth as he screamed vile curses.

That night, at the urging of his guest, the beautiful and mysterious Abbess of Kirklees, King John attempted to drown his sorrow by gorging himself on fruit, eels, and cider. Within the week, he lay dying, screaming in pain.

There were some who claimed the king had been poisoned. He certainly had more than enough enemies to wish him dead, with his queen, Isabella of Angloumene, among their number. In fact, Isabella wasted no time marrying her lover, Hugh de Lusignan, the only one of the Lusignan clan to have escaped John's punishment of being roasted on a spit years before.

But whenever the rumors of poisoning reached the seashell like ears of the mysterious Abbess of Kirklees, she batted her large blue eyes and pursed her thin red lips together in disapproval. "Now, now," she would scold, "who are we to question the ways of the Lord?"

King John and Isabella of Angloumene's son, Prince Henry, succeeded his father to the throne. The nine-year-old wore a makeshift crown in a hasty ceremony conducted in Gloucester Cathedral, since London was currently under the control of Philip Augustus's Dauphin, Louis.

Nottingham continued to suffer, with Sheriff Jasper, King John's "man," viciously ruling the shire. Robin Hood and his gang of outlaws frequently foiled the sheriff's schemes, but Robin himself was a changed man.

Although his gang supported and fought alongside him, they continued to maintain their private lives with their families. For the next ten years, Robin chose to live in solitude in the forest, he who once could never have too many loving people surround him.

The years which had been so kind to Robin overtook him with the loss of his family, and the once handsome and youthful seeming lord now appeared far older than his years. It was rare indeed to see him smile, or to witness a sparkle in his eyes. Only at night, while he dreamed, did his beautific smile grace his lips.

One day, while Djaq was busy delivering her daughter Saffia's and young Allan's first child, Robin was wounded in a squirmish. Much alone was with him to help.

"Robin? Are you alright?" Much asked, panic springing at the sight of Robin's blood. "Stay here! I'll fetch Djaq!"

"No, Much. Djaq's needed elsewhere. I'll be alright."

"No, you won't! I've got to get you care!"

"Help me to Kirklees then," Robin stated. "I've heard the Abbess is skilled in treating the sick."

And so, Much helped Robin to Kirklees Abbey, where the Abbess seemed strangely excited by the outlaw's presence.

"Leave us," she ordered Much, and the poor man paced back and forth in the hallway, praying for Robin to recover.

"So, Robin Hood, you place yourself at my mercy," the Abbess said. "Allow me to care for your wound."

She carefully selected a potion from the many bottles she had collected. Pouring a generous amount onto a cloth, she dabbed at his wound.

"I don't know how to thank you," Robin said, slightly uncomfortable, sensing something to be wrong.

The moment his eyes met hers, he stopped, realizing his terrible mistake.

"Isabella," he murmured. "You're the Abbess of Kirklees."

Isabella of Gisbourne laughed. "Yes! Isn't it ironic? All these years, I've lived in luxury here at the Abbey, while you've struggled and starved in the forest. And now...you come to me for help! Oh, revenge is so sweet! But never fear, Robin, I have shown you mercy. You did me a great favor, killing my louse of a brother. And so, the poison I just applied to your wound will be swift, unlike that I gave poor John. Oh, his death was a slow, lingering one. He held on for days! You won't even last an hour! Yet it shall be no less painful. Didn't I promise you, I would get you at last?"

With another laugh, she strode from the room, admitting a nervous Much back into Robin's presence.

When Much saw Robin, he knew.

"Robin, no! Robin, you can't be...you can't!"

"Much," Robin whispered, "my bow."

Not even bothering to fight back his tears, Much handed Robin his beloved bow. Aiming an arrow, Robin summoned the last of his strength and let it soar out the open window.

"Bury me where it falls, Much," Robin told his grieving friend.

"Robin, don't leave me! What will I be without you?"

"You are more of a man than I ever was, my friend. Much, I've loved you always like a brother, but I have used you sorely. Can you forgive me?"

Much couldn't believe his ears.

"Robin, you took me in when I was starving...when my family couldn't keep me! You befriended me when others mocked and scorned me! You gave me Bonchurch, and raised me from my humble beginnings to be a lord, like yourself! Used me? No! No, Robin! You have always been my truest, most trusted friend!"

Tears stinging their eyes, the two men embraced, but Robin was close to death and couldn't hold on. "Please don't go!" Much begged. "Death's the one place I cannot follow you!"

"You will follow me one day, Much, but it won't be simply into Death. Live your life, my friend, love your wife and children, but one day, I swear, I will see you in Heaven."

Much watched as the man he loved more than he loved himself breathe his last earthly breath, and was blessed to see a miracle transpire before his very eyes. As the life slipped away from his friend, Much saw Robin's eyes light up with their old familiar sparkle. He saw his friend seem to grow visibly younger before his eyes, and heard him call out in recognition, the name so beautiful on his lips, "Marian."

"Thank you, Lord," Much cried, "for taking away his sorrow and his loneliness. Thank you for taking away his pain."

~FIN~


	16. Chapter 16

EPILOGUE

Much honored his dearest friend's last request, and buried Robin at the place where his arrow fell to the earth. The place was farther away than anyone could have believed possible, but Robin had never been merely "anyone" with a bow in his hands.

"This is wrong," Much wept to his friends, Will, Djaq, Allan, and Little John, as they gathered around the freshly dug grave. "He should be laid to rest at Locksley, beside Marian and their...their children."

"He cannot be," Djaq reminded Much solemnly. "Even if we gained permission to bury him there, how would we stop his enemies from defiling his grave?"

"You did the right thing, Much," Will tried to comfort his friend. "You did what Robin wanted."

Much uttered a sob, and looked about him. "It is a...a beautiful place," he said, admiring the trees through his tears.

"When did you ever know Robin to miss a shot?" Allan asked kindly, laying a comforting hand on Much's shoulder.

...

Several weeks passed. The former outlaws commissioned a stone to be carved, at Much's insistence and expense, to mark Robin's grave. It read:

"Here beneath this little stone  
>Lays Robert, Earl of Huntington<br>Never was an archer as good as he  
>And people called him Robin Hood<br>Such outlaws as he and his men  
>Will England never see again."<p>

"Do you think it wise to mark his grave with that stone, Much?" Will gently asked. "Remember what Djaq said, about his enemies. Maybe it would be better if nobody knew where Robin's buried."

"We can't leave him in an unmarked grave!" Much cried.

Much was so inconsolable, even Eve could do nothing to lessen his despair. In only a few short weeks, the former servant followed his master, dying from a broken heart.

When his grieving friends offered to bury him at Bonchurch, Eve stopped them.

"Much told me, years ago when we first met, that his place was with Robin. Please, do as I say and honor his very last request to me."

"What was it?" Allan asked.

Eve gulped back a sob. "Bury him by Robin, under the trees near Kirklees, and place the stone he paid for over his grave."

"What?" Allan asked.

Djaq grasped the meaning behind Much's request. "In case Robin's enemies come to defile his grave or dig up his body," she realized sadly. "Don't you see? If they do, it is Much they will harm, not Robin! It is the final faithful act of the most loyal servant and friend who ever was."

"And the sweetest, kindest husband," Eve wept.

...

And so, Much was buried just a few feet from Robin's unmarked grave, with Robin's headstone marking his grave.

Years, decades, centuries passed. The legend of Robin Hood flourished, continuing to inspire the English to be brave, strong, kind, and generous people. Pilgrims discovered the headstone and, believing Robin Hood was buried beneath it, rubbed the stone, claiming that, among other things, doing so could cure toothache.

The Reformation saw Kirklees Abbey and its grounds pass into the hands of the Crown. King Henry VIII bestowed it on the Armitage family for their faithful service fighting the Yorkshire Catholic rebels during the Pilgrimage of Grace.

The Armitages were pleased with their ill gotten gains, except for one horrific detail.

The spector of a nun, clothed entirely in white, beautiful in face and form, but vicious as only an evil spirit could be, haunted the grounds surrounding the former abbey.

At first, the Armitages believed the ghost had come to haunt them for the role they had played against the Catholic Church, but as time sped by, they discovered she cared nothing for that.

Denied Heaven and fleeing Hell, the ghost of Isabella of Gisbourne haunted the grounds surrounding what had once been Kirklees Abbey, searching for Robin Hood's grave. Yet even her ghost did not discover the secret, that it was only Much who was buried where Robin was thought to lie.

...

(Note: This epilogue is based on supposed stories from actual "ghost hunters" who investigated the actual site thought to be Robin Hood's grave. After their investigation, they determined that Robin is buried in an unmarked grave a few feet from the grave marked as Robin's, because one of his most loyal friends posed as him in death, to protect Robin's remains from grave robbers. The fact that the Armitage family owned the grounds from the Reformation until their sole surviving descendant died in 2008 is coincidence with the name of the fine actor who played Guy of Gisbourne so excellently. The words on the headstone are those said to appear, though they are thought to have been carved centuries later, and the belief that rubbing the headstone could cure toothache is also factual. The white figure of a nun is thought to roam the grounds, and she is said to be a malevolent spirit, if you believe those things. People claim she is the abbess who was thought to bleed Robin to death.)


End file.
